Loving Libby

I had the most lovely, lazy day on Wednesday.  I planned to get up at 6:30, but slept in until 7:15.  I planned to cook a big breakfast for our house guests, but instead I just made a pan of muffins.  I planned to work out, wash sheets, and balance the checkbook... yeah, none of that happened, either.  Pretty much, I made a couple meals, went to the grocery store, and spoiled Libby up the rest of the day.  Once 10:00 hit and I thought back on my day, I realized just how lazy it had been.  It was like a "sick day"!

Which I think is okay, really.  Wednesday was the first day we hadn't had company in over a week.  Now, living over six hours from either family, I LOVE company, don't get me wrong.  First we'd had one of my dear friends to visit for a few days, then Dede and Gene came for five.  And we had the most wonderful time being reunited, showing where we live and our day-to-day life, introducing our California "family" to Jimmy John's, Culver's, and Minnesota wine (lol). Although we were exhausted, I didn't need this lazy day to "recover" from HAVING company... I needed a day to heal my heart, which broke a little when they left.

Because I had just spent five days witnessing the MOST beautiful relationship: I got to see someone else loving my little girl as a mom and as a dad.  Not that her grandmas and grandpas and aunts and uncles and her extensive fan club don't love her, too, lots and lots and lots.  But there's nothing like the love a parent has for their child, and that's what she was to them for so many months.  You can't just hit the "off-switch" on that parent-child bond after seven months of having her rely on you for her every need, and loving her more and more each day. 

I can look at my mom or my grandma or my many friends who are moms and see the love in their eyes for their own children.  Now that I have my Libby, I've begun to understand just how deep that love flows.  But although certain parts of a "mother's love" apply across the board, other parts are different... because the child is different.  Some of the things you love about your child are different than the things I love about mine.  Each parent's love is unique, and probably a little different from child to child, too.  Not that any one mama loves her child more than the next mama does, that's not what I'm getting at.  It's just... different.  That's okay; in fact, it's beautiful.

So here's what makes Dede and Gene so special to us: we have a bond with them that so few other people will ever get to experience.  All FOUR of us love this ONE child as a parent... two couples experiencing the same love for the same child.  Because of this, the bond we have with them is extremely unique, a little weird, and completely beautiful.  Watching them stare at her with wonder and play with her for hours and laugh SO HARD at every little thing she does was simply amazing.  What a precious reminder of how blessed we are to have her

So when they left on Wednesday and I was faced with the choice between a week's worth of chores (because I'd been playing too much with my company and not cleaning up after myself :) or a lazy day to heal my heart and give hours of undivided attention to my little sweetie... I chose the sweetie.  They just couldn't get enough of her while they were here, and neither can I.  She is growing SO fast, and I just want to soak up every moment.  I can't even believe how much she had grown and changed in the three months since we left California and Dede and Gene said goodbye to us.  Now it's going to be another SEVEN months until we likely travel out in early April for our next visit.  I can't imagine how far she will have come by then.

 

It was so hard watching them pull out of the drive on Wednesday morning, simply because I truly understand how deeply they love her, and how hard these seven months will be for them.  We'll all be counting the days until our next visit, but until then, we made some truly precious memories this time around :)




Friday night we were "reunited" and they got to see just how big and strong she has gotten!

Saturday we went for a walk to the beach and to the apple orchard for lunch.  Then Saturday night Tim joined us for dinner (Libby asked to sit at the table) and a wine tasting.



Sunday we went to Hudson, WI so my parents could meet them.  Tim: "Don't get any closer in that jersey, you're jinxing us.  See? SEE? We're playing awful and it's all your fault, Gene."



Monday we took a walk along the river in Hudson, took them to the Mall of America, and came home for a follow-up visit with our adoption social worker.



Tuesday Tim and I both had to work, so they took Libby for the morning and checked out the little shops in Litchfield.  Later in the afternoon we all went to Libby's PT appointment together and then checked out downtown Hutchinson.



Wednesday was goodbye day! They got to see Libby's first session with her special ed teachers, and then they had to take off for the airport.

Summer of Doctors

I’m breathing a huge sigh of relief as I begin this post.  I’ve been waiting all summer to be able to write up a summary of our work so far with specialists, therapists, and other evaluations.  So this post means our crazy busy summer is winding down, and we can trade in our jam-packed high-speed appointment book for just a “busy” appointment book, and have more quiet days at home with nowhere to go.

 

I’m going to format this post a little differently than normal, being as factual as possible and trying to remove the emotional aspects, just because there is so much information to consider and I could seriously go on for days about everything we have learned and been through this summer.  So please know, as you read this, that I’m not in shock or denial or emotionless about any of it.  I’m sure you know us well enough to fill in the blanks of sadness, joy, and growing ever closer to our Savior through this crazy journey.

 

Right away at some of her first check-ups after birth, Libby’s pediatrician in California suspected a major vision problem.  At just over a month old, she was evaluated by an ophthalmologic specialist, who diagnosed her with Optic Nerve Hypoplasia (ONH).  Dr. Bothun, our new eye specialist here in Minnesota, described ONH as one of the most “bang-your-head-against-the-wall” conditions he treats.  It’s so frustrating because she has perfect, mechanically sound eyes, but a severely limited number of optic nerves to connect with the brain and finish the job.  Because it is a condition of the nerve and not the eye itself, there is no surgical correction.  ONH can, and often does, improve during the first 2-3 years of life, but the degree of improvement varies.

 The specialist in California advised Gene and Dede that the condition is often accompanied by hormone deficiencies, midline brain defects, and developmental delays, so they were encouraged to have an MRI of the brain, consult with an endocrinologist, and keep a close eye on her developmental milestones.

Although she had just had a six-month checkup a few weeks before, we took her in about a week after we got home in June (7 months old) to meet her new pediatrician, Dr. Erin, and set up our action plan for specialty care.  And what a plan we got! She told us she knew it was a lot and we could slow down at any time we felt too overwhelmed.  But she said, “I’m a big fan of hitting the ground running when kids have special needs, and establishing every possible connection early on, so that if you ever need it in the future you already have your ‘in.’” That made sense to us… so we began to attack the list:

1.       Physical therapy to help with an obvious torticollis issue and keep her gross motor skills on track

2.       Occupational therapy to continue developing fine motor skills, which are a little weaker, likely due to her vision

3.       Consult with a craniofacial specialist to evaluate concerns with the large flat spot to the right side of the head

4.       Consult with an endocrinologist to test hormone levels and check for deficiencies commonly associated with ONH

5.       Consult with an ophthalmologist to confirm ONH diagnosis and establish a baseline of visual ability

6.       Get an MRI to take a look at brain development, and to understand if poor vision has also been caused by anything neurological

7.       Get started on the evaluation process for Special Ed services through the school district, available year-round for kids birth-age three

8.       Get in touch with a County Public Health Nurse to make sure we understand all the resources available to assist us and Elizabeth

#8 was easy.  Dr. Erin actually had a county nurse call us right away; I think it was the next day already.  We got an appointment with her quickly and got more information than we could possibly use on what kinds of programs are available in our county.  One of the cool programs we got enrolled in sends us surveys every couple of months of all sorts of developmental milestones.  Not that every child is expected to “pass” every point of every survey for their age, since all kids develop differently, but after several months of surveys have been turned in, they can help us (and the rest of Libby’s team) to recognize patterns and make recommendations.

#3 was the first specialist appointment we had in the Twin Cities.  Dr. Erin had been concerned not only about Libby’s head shape and how it might affect her brain development, but also that her soft spot was a lot more closed that she would have liked for Libby’s age, and she wanted a second opinion on that.  Dr. Wood was the craniofacial specialist.  He first addressed the soft spot and thought that she should be fine.  He agreed with Dr. Erin that her head shape was pretty drastically flattened from one side to the other, and he advised us to have her fitted for a custom cranial cap that gradually rounds and re-shapes the skull.  Tim and I chose to delay that decision for a while, because he told us that the head shape would not impact the development of her brain in any way, and we wanted to try a couple different approaches before resorting to the cap.

#1 and #2 started right away in early July.  The primary concern for physical therapy right away was getting Libby comfortable with turning and tilting her head both ways, and using both sides of her body more equally.  She had been heavily favoring her right side, so the left side of her neck was pretty weak.  That alone had been a pretty significant factor in the development of the flat spot, since she always turned her head to one side when laying on her back.  They also began working on strengthening her sitting position and working toward being more comfortable in the four-point position for crawling.  In occupational therapy, they started working a lot with grasping, reaching, following sound, and overlapping PT a bit with the sitting and crawl positions.  Libby has made a lot of fantastic progress this summer with weekly visits for both kinds of therapy.  At times I have thought it to be overkill, since so many kids pick these things up on their own in the same amount of time it has taken her, without the help of therapists.  But then I remember what Dr. Erin said, that children with special needs can NEVER have too many people on their team and helping them along.  It never ceases to amaze me how much of what God created us to do is INSTINCTIVE and she just does it without ever having visually observed it, like smiling and chewing and pushing up on all fours.  At the same time, she does need a little extra push in some areas, like crawling.  Although it’s “fun” for her to experiment with pushing up and her body tells her that’s what it wants to do, she’s still lacking the visual motivation to turn that skill into movement or understand the purpose of travel.  She cries and cries when she’s “placed” in four-point rather than going there on her own, or when we (or the therapists) try to encourage crawling steps.  Well, I would cry, too… she must be so confused as to why all of us think this crawling thing is so great, when she’s so much more comfortable and secure on her tummy or back or sitting on her cute little bum.

On a side note, between PT work on her neck muscles and the chiropractic appointments we got her into right away, her head rounded out BEAUTIFULLY on its own within three weeks of the specialist telling us to fit her for a cap.  So it turns out that was a good call on our part to delay that treatment.  PT and OT still continue, although our schedule is lessening and we’re down to once every 2 weeks, so we just have one “type” of therapy each week.

#7, the Special Ed Eval, was the next thing we got going on.  I had actually gotten the ball rolling on that a little bit in May before we left for California, off a tip from one of our church members.  Later on in July, after things had begun to slow down a LITTLE bit at home (but not much), we started the process of having her evaluated for approval to receive special education services through the school district.  She was evaluated by the overall birth-age 3 teacher, who specializes in developmental assistance, as well as the birth-graduation vision teacher.  After a couple rounds of paperwork and several observation/interview visits in our home, we just went over our IFSP (Individual Family Service Plan) with them yesterday for the next year.  We’ll be having weekly visits with the vision teacher, and twice a month with the development teacher.  And the best part is, everything will be here at home until she’s three years old.  Aaaaah, this mama loves that idea after the summer we have had.  Therapy at home in my jammies with coffee? Yes, please! They have some great goals mapped out for her for the next year, and will be giving us lots of valuable help and ideas as far as modifications for setting up the house, mobility training, and general parenting considerations for a blind child.

#4, Endocrine Evaluation, got going at the end of July, back in the Cities again.  It wasn’t too long of a visit, since it was just a meet-and-greet with Libby’s new endocrine doctor, a quick physical examination, and then a blood draw to run labs and do a thorough check of hormone levels.  Most of her levels looked pretty good, but her thyroid level was low.  They had us start her on a ½ pill of the lowest dose of a common thyroid medication, and asked us to come back for an additional test of her adrenal gland to help determine if the thyroid medication dosage could be increased.  The doctor also asked us to have the MRI ASAP because she wanted to get a good look at the brain to check for common issues associated with ONH, and also see if her pituitary gland is fully formed.

So #6, back to the Cities a few weeks later for the MRI and the additional adrenal/thyroid test.  That was probably the most awful day we have had because it was so long and emotional.  She had to be sedated for the MRI, because the scan would take 45 minutes to an hour.  So we started the day by comforting our screaming, terrified baby as the nurses tried one, two, THREE times before getting a successful IV running.  The poor thing was so scared by the third time.  They finally got one strong enough to administer the sedation, but it would not be strong enough for the hormone test later on the on the day, so while she was under they did ANOTHER one; all in all that sweet baby got FIVE IV pokes that day and she still has a couple bruises almost three weeks later :(

The scan took about 45 minutes and then it took her about that long to wake up afterwards.  We got to feed her but we had to keep the two IV’s in so they could be used for the next test.  When she was awake and fed, we went upstairs to our own private room since the test would take a little over an hour.  What they had to do was give her the increased dosage of the medication through the IV, and then do five blood draws fifteen minutes apart to observe her cortisol levels and their reaction to the new dosage.  So in between blood draws we got to hold her and play with her, but those stupid needles had to stay in, and every fifteen minutes the nurse would come back and draw again.  We were SO glad when that day was over.



Daddy and Libby discuss the upcoming Packer season in between blood draws

The MRI did give us some new information about her brain that will be really useful to us as we move through the next few years and into her school years.  There are four areas of Libby’s brain that are either underdeveloped or completely missing.  As a result, we’re now on the lookout for specific delays, balance and coordination issues, possible learning disabilities, and we’ll have to keep a really close relationship with the endocrinologist because of some definite serious hormone issues, aside from the thyroid.  Again, all of these are things we’re on the “lookout” for, nothing that we KNOW she has or will ever have, just that she’s at risk.  So we pray, pray, and pray some more for our sweet, smiley girl who continues to grow and amaze us every day.  Since learning more about the specific parts of her brain that haven’t developed correctly, I’m so amazed at God’s creation that these teeny, tiny parts control SO MUCH, and at the same time that God has designed such an incredible system of checks and balances that when entire portions of the brain are MISSING, a child can continue to grow and develop at a seemingly normal rate.  Amazing.

If you’d like additional info on the specifics of the MRI, you can message me on facebook. We got a pretty short “report” from the doctor, so I did a little research and typed out an “extended version” (I’m sure you can imagine) for our immediate family, with my own commentary to keep things light :) I’d be happy to share if you’re interested.

So finally, to wrap up the endless summer of appointments, we completed #5, Ophthalmology Eval, this past Monday. It really was a nice, drama-free visit after the MRI we had just gotten :) They did a thorough eye exam with all kinds of lights and lenses, and agreed with the diagnosis of ONH that was originally given in December.  Dr. Bothun, who will be her eye doctor, only needs to see her annually for the time being, so that he can observe progress in her eyesight now that he has a baseline established in her chart.  He stated what we already knew, that her vision is extremely impaired with occasional, but inconsistent, reaction to bright lights.  He, too, stated that there can be improvement to the vision in early childhood, but starting with the level of impairment that she is, it likely won’t be much at all.  We can certainly continue to pray that God use Elizabeth to defy the odds and stump her doctors, but we also need to prepare ourselves for the strong possibility that she will never see.  Either way, God will use her as a beautiful, talented, amazing blessing for our family, His church, and everyone who knows her.

So! There you have it.  I know it’s a lot of information at once and I applaud anyone who actually made it through this whole thing in one sitting.  Even though the summer has totally flown by, we have had a full three months to establish all these contacts and process all this information.  We’re SO excited to be on a schedule now that is just the special ed teachers once a week, therapy once a week, and pediatrician/specialists occasionally and as needed.  What a relief! Maybe now I can finally clean my house like I’ve been wanting to ALL summer… well, I guess I better with weekly visits from the vision teacher here at home!

Again, please message me with any further questions you’d like to ask, either on facebook or e-mail me at megan.redfield.mr@gmail.com  I’m happy to share further details, but I wanted to keep it as short as possible (BAHAHAHA) for today.

To God be the glory, great things He has done!

We Wait For You, Part 2

“Yes, Lord, walking in the way of your laws, we wait for you; your name and renown are the desire of our hearts.”  Isaiah 26:8

A few days ago, I started writing a little background on how I'm beginning to be able to see God's grace and mercy in asking us to wait (and wait and wait) for sweet Elizabeth to come into our life.  If you haven't yet had a chance to check out Part 1, please give it a read before continuing.

Throughout this process, I've tried not to "challenge" God. I believe it's okay to ask questions, to wonder, even to guess at His ways and reasonings, as long as fear and respect remain in the forefront, and we never call "His will" that which is our own speculation. One of the questions I had for Him about a month ago went something like this:

 "Okay, God, I understand you had a perfect plan for when and how to place Libby in our lives.  But we missed SO MUCH as she grew and changed from birth to six months, thousands of miles away, while we were completely unaware of her existence.  Even if you knew that we weren't ready to bring her home, I wonder why we couldn't at least have known ABOUT her... seen pictures, shared videos, gotten daily updates instead of such an overwhelming wealth of information all at once."

Some of you are probably snorting already, especially those of you who know how difficult the month of May was for us.  The four weeks we waited to meet her after knowing we had been chosen were torturous! But that particular weekend in July, she'd changed so much in what seemed like an instant, hit three big milestones in two days, and I was experiencing the mother's joy of watching a child grow and change and finally learn to do something you've been trying to teach them.  So I'd temporarily erased the month of May from my memory, and was wistfully wondering why God hadn't allowed us to enjoy those big changes earlier on, even if from afar.

Well, I only wondered for a few moments. The answers started flowing through me so quickly that I literally had to "take notes" on all the reasons He was suddenly allowing me to understand. First, the things I probably WOULD have done, had I known she was mine, living 2,000 miles away:

• Freak out.  The Lord, in His mercy, only allowed me to know about her for six weeks, and to know she was mine for four, before going to meet her.  Because He knew I would freak out.  I was physically ill and slept less than I do now that she's home (and teething).  Not because there was so much to get done.  Not because I didn't have enough time to prepare.  We got "ready" in a surprisingly short amount of time, and spent the last ten days pretty much biding our time, wishing the days away.  No, He knew my mind would be constantly preoccupied with every travel detail and new photo I got from Dede, He knew I would be worthless at work, and He knew I would read way too much into everything and worry myself sick.  So, in His wisdom, He only allowed me to carry on like this for four weeks.  Instead of six long months.
• Spend all my time reading a million books.  Books about babies.  Books about blindness.  Books about possible complications that come with her condition, things she doesn't even HAVE, but things I would have worried about anyway.  Truth be told, I've hardly cracked a book since we got her.  What To Expect the First Year is collecting dust, and that's okay.  Because anyone I've ever talked to that has read the thing cover to cover has the same review: it made them worry MORE and they felt LESS confident after reading it, because it was so full of information that they couldn't possibly remember every last detail, which made them feel like terrible parents.  Do I wish I had time to read it, then or now? Yes.  Would I learn a thing or two? Definitely.  But would I trade all the amazing things I got to do last winter and spring for the thousands of pages I probably would have read, waiting for Libby? No way.
• Wimped out on my half-marathon training.  I NEVER would have completed my most recent race on May 19.  No way.  Because if I had trained all winter the way I trained in May, once I knew about Libby, I would have collapsed before mile 3.  It was such a blessing that I had the majority of my training under my belt before we found out about her.  Like I said, I didn't sleep well.  So I didn't eat as well.  And I drank a lot more caffeine. I was really good at thinking of things I needed from the store, phone calls I needed to make, or research I needed to do before going to the gym... which usually meant that I ended up skipping my run that day.  God knew I NEEDED to do that race.  I hadn't done one since the August before.  He knew I would need the feeling of victory, reaching a goal, pushing my body past its limits FRESH in my mind before bringing a baby home.  Because it's really, REALLY hard to work out now.  Before I "created" excuses, now they are real and stressful and suffocating. Had I not gotten that race in last May, I'm positive I would have given up already.

And now the things that DID happen, that probably WOULDN'T have, had we known about sweet Elizabeth from day one:

•  Focus on all the other goodness in my life.  I have been blessed with an amazing family, a beautiful home, a job that I love, and the best husband in the world.  Hands down. I know, I know, some of the rest of you THINK you have the best husband in the world.  But that's an argument for another day.  The point is, Libby has been a huge blessing in my life, but also my entire focus since May 1.  As she now should be.  But for most of those six months before May 1, I knew nothing about her.  No, I didn't get to freak out about her first giggle or tooth or back-to-tummy roll.  Instead, I got to have a few extra dates and vacations with my hubby, spoil up my doggies, take weekend trips to visit friends and family, enjoy hours of junk TV, spend a lot more time doing things I love, attempt to do Pinterest but totally not get it... the list goes on and on.  So rather than obsess about her all that time, which I easily could have, I got to soak up the other loves of my life for a few more months.  Which I see as a blessing.
•  She got to be "theirs." Gene and Dede were her parents for that time, and they got to experience the joy and blessings of parenthood once again, and fall head over heels for their little girl.  They went to the doctor appointments, they picked out the outfits, they did the middle-of-the-night feedings.  They didn't have to call some random strangers across the country to get approval or an opinion every time they needed to make a decision.  Had we been involved from the very start, I don't think they would have gotten as attached or fallen as deeply in love.  And Elizabeth NEEDED all that love they gave her.  She absolutely thrived on it and she is now such a happy, loving, secure baby because of it.
• I prayed and prayed and prayed.  My faith was tested and it grew stronger.  This is the greatest blessing that came of waiting to hear about Libby until she was older.  I spent those six months waiting and wondering in the most constructive way, praying constantly.  And I know that so many of you prayed for us, too, and so you also were blessed by our waiting.  I traded in six months of worry and freaking and possibly a stomach ulcer, for six months of prayer and growing closer to my Savior.

As I close this one out, I'd like to return to the passage from Isaiah, “Yes, Lord, walking in the way of your laws, we wait for you; your name and renown are the desire of our hearts.”

Here, God gives me His very best reason for asking me to wait.  So that His name could be glorified.  What if the Redfields had become a waiting family on November 1, and then on November 3 we had gotten word of our daughter having been born? I can just hear it: "Wow.  Amazing how the adoption process works.  How perfect that you finished up your paperwork just in time.  It was meant to be." Hardly a mention of God or His goodness.

But He asked us to wait for Him.  His name and renown are to be the desire of our hearts.  The longer we waited, the longer it became clearer that HE was in charge of it all, not some process or our ability to fill out paperwork well or present ourselves in an appealing manner in a profile book.  After the wait, and seeing now what He had planned for us, it is SO CLEAR that He is in control, and deserves ALL the glory and praise for bringing our little family together, from miles apart.
  

Hindsight is 20/20... and I still don't pretend to understand ALL the reasons we had to wait, or even why He chose Elizabeth for us.  Everything I just laid out is simple speculation, my guess as to why God works the way He does.  But it sure feels good to let go of the anxiety and sadness of those months, and to believe it was for a positive reason.  And now I have some reading material for the next time I'm terribly impatient for something to happen in my life :)

We Wait For You, Part 1

It’s no secret that Tim and I have learned to WAIT.  Sometimes patiently, faithfully, confidently; other times anxiously and full of despair.  If you’re reading this post, it’s likely not the first you’ve heard of our years of waiting and wondering, traveling many different paths that finally led to infant adoption and, ultimately, the beautiful girl we now call Our Libby.

And so the title “We Wait For You” might easily refer to that smiling face you’ve seen in so many photos on facebook, the soft, fuzzy head now covered in wispy auburn hair, the big brown eyes that light up my world.   But here today, it refers to our relationship with our Lord and Savior, which has been tested and strengthened throughout this process.

I started jotting down notes for this post four weeks ago, July 15.  I was practicing organ for church early on a Sunday morning.  Libby was babbling and rolling around behind me on the organ room floor.  My thoughts were far from learning my hymns and choosing preservice music.  I was thinking about how much she’d grown and changed already, in the six short weeks we’d had her home with us.  I was thinking about just how much we’d missed, not even meeting her until she was six months, three and a half weeks old.  I was thinking about how things might have been different if we’d known about her, seen pictures and videos of her, maybe even held her months before.

Let me back up and lay out a quick timeline here.  These dates are burned into my mind, but I have to remember that the rest of the world doesn’t revolve around Libby, like mine does :)

• Elizabeth was born on November 3, 2011. 
•  She was taken home to Pismo Beach, CA by Gene and Dede on November 8 (they were with her in the hospital from the 4^th).
• Her Optic Nerve condition was officially diagnosed and her blindness confirmed on December 6.
• After trying several other routes/agencies, Libby’s birth family made an adoption plan with Bethany Christian Services in late March.  The agency first tried to place her with a family within the state.
• In April the search was opened up to Bethany branches in other states.  Tim and I were given her story on April 16 and asked if we would like to be considered.  We were told that our profile would be shown on April 20.
• On May 1, we found out we had been chosen.
• On May 28, we arrived in Pismo Beach and met precious Elizabeth.
• On June 3, we flew her home to Minnesota.

So you can see she had a long road before she even came to us, and before we even knew about her.  Gene and Dede gave her such wonderful care, and I’m convinced she could not have had a better start in life.  They gave her everything we would have wanted to give her ourselves, and then some.  And in return, she blessed them with smiles and milestones and seven months of precious memories that they will cherish forever. 

Meanwhile, we waited.  For months, we knew nothing about her.  Have a look now at Tim and Megan’s timeline from November-May:

• On November 1 we submitted our profile (a Shutterfly book of photos and information about ourselves) for birth families to look at.  This completed our paperwork process and made us a “waiting family.” We rushed to finish our book by this date, because our social worker had told us about an upcoming profile showing in South Dakota that would be a possible match for us.  Books were being shipped on November 2, so ours had to be turned in by the 1^st.
• November 4: Gene and Dede meet sweet Elizabeth and fall in love.  Tim and Megan drive to Illinois for a wedding.  Our minds have been consumed with this showing in South Dakota all week.  California is the farthest place from our minds :) The South Dakota showing is postponed several times, and eventually, at the end of November, the birth mother picks another family.
• Late December: we get our second profile showing opportunity.  This one we turn down, because the additional costs in this particular situation would have nearly doubled our total adoption expenses.  It was SO hard to say no after months and years of wanting a child so badly.
• February: So far it’s been approximately six weeks between each of these profile showings.  The wait has been excruciating.  Our nursery has been complete and ready for quite a while.  Some days the sight of it gives me hope.  Some days it crushes me and I close my eyes as I pass through it to get to our own bedroom.  Some days I don’t even notice it’s there.  We got another call for a profile showing a couple of hours away.  The situation sounded a little risky but promising, so we agreed to have our book shown.  The day of the showing, my stomach was doing somersaults.  I snuck a peek at my phone at 10:30 that morning in the back office at work, and let out a shriek when I saw an e-mail from our social worker.  I read it through and was disappointed once again.  She was letting us know there had been a huge response to this showing and our book had not even been sent.  It would have been too many books for the birth couple, so they had cut about half the couples who had wanted to be shown.

So there you have it.  That’s it! Only three big disappointments, only six months on a waiting list that commonly lasts 1-2 years, or longer.  Looking back, we had it pretty good.  I’ve heard some awful stories of endless waits and crushing blows along the way.  But if you’d tried to tell me we “had it good” last winter or spring, I would have laughed in your face, or maybe scratched you, depending on the day :) It sure didn’t feel good.  It felt awful, living in the unknown like that.

So back to that Sunday morning, practicing organ.  I was thinking about those months we spent in the Unknown, wondering how life would have been different if we had just known about Libby from day one.  Not necessarily taken her home, but known about her.  She was born eerily close to the day we started waiting.  How differently would those six months have played out if we had known?

“Yes, Lord, walking in the way of your laws, we wait for you; your name and renown are the desire of our hearts.”  Isaiah 26:8

Yes, we waited for her.  But before “she” had a name, before we even knew it was a “she,” when generic “Baby Redfield” was getting gender-neutral Christmas and Easter gifts, we were waiting for the Lord and His plan.  He had His reasons and His ways, and in the aftermath they now appear so clear and so wise.  Not only why we waited for HER, but why, in His wisdom and mercy, He asked us to wait to even KNOW of her.  He had other plans for us last winter and spring.  And she was in wonderful hands in the meantime.

My dear Hubby, the pastor, needs the computer now. It is Saturday afternoon, after all.  And I’ve already gone on for quite a while.  So y’all will have to wait a couple hours to hear my take on God’s plans… just like we had to wait :) 

And here's a picture of 2-day old Elizabeth to hold you over, from long before she was "ours."

So Much Love

We thought we were prepared.  We read the books, we cleaned the house from top to bottom, we signed on every dotted line.  By the time we left for California, the even the dogs knew her name, perking up whenever they heard “Elizabeth” just like “ride,” “treat,” and “outside.” My heart ached the entire month of May because I so desperately “missed” my little girl, the beautiful princess across the country whom I hadn’t even met yet, who already had my entire heart wrapped around her teensy finger.  We knew we were in for BIGTIME love. 

We’d spent years watching so many friends and family fall in love over and over and over again with baby after baby.  We’d seen how it changes people.  We’d begun to feel it when our first nephew came along, and it grew stronger as we checked off each step of our adoption process.  We knew we were getting closer, each passing day, to a whole new kind of love.  We were prepared for it to be bigger than we could possibly imagine.  We knew it would fill us up and knock us off our feet.  So we felt prepared.

Then we saw this sweet little face.

Like I said, we had known it would be major.  We had known it would be boundless and unimaginable.  And yet somehow, it continues to bewilder me day after day.  I go to bed thinking, “I love that little pumpkin with everything I have and then some.  There’s no way I could love her more.”  Then I wake up, even AFTER a night of seemingly endless screaming, and love her a million times more than the day before.  Somehow, even after all that mental and emotional preparation, I’m STILL surprised that my heart can love this much. 

And that’s not even the tip of the iceberg.  What REALLY caught me off guard is how much extra love has come into my life that I wasn’t even preparing for!

Obviously I loved my husband before Libby came along, more and more each day that we spent together.  We had a wonderful six years pre-baby, growing closer through God’s Word and the trials and triumphs we faced as a team.  But seeing him as Her Daddy… wow.  To see him drop everything when she needs him, to hear him make up silly songs about her, to watch him put her to sleep and gently kiss her forehead… MAN, that’s powerful stuff.  I don’t know how the man does it.  I thought I was sleep-deprived? I know better than anyone how busy he is and how deeply he cares for his ministry and how many hours he ACTUALLY works.  And he still makes time to be the Dad she needs him to be.  And train for marathons.  He just doesn’t sleep.  He’s amazing and my heart is overflowing.

Or how about the birth family? I knew Birthmom’s first name and that she was a “pretty girl” before we left for California, but that was about it.  When we left home at the end of May, I loved her for the choice she had made to give life to this sweet baby.  Funny how in six short weeks, I can already say I love her for HER. Not just for the baby she brought into the world, but for her grace, maturity, and wisdom beyond her years.  And I wasn’t prepared to be warmly embraced, SO SOON, by her whole family.  I love what a beautiful, close-knit group of people they are, and I’m humbly grateful for how much (and how EASILY) they support and encourage us.  I’m thankful every day for what they gave to us, and it blows my mind when THEY thank US for what we have done.  They are amazing people.

Then there’s Dede and Gene, Libby’s “third” set of grandparents: Nanny and Pops.  I was fully prepared to love these people for the beautiful start to life they had given my daughter.  I had a feeling they would want ongoing contact, and I was willing to oblige out of appreciation for their selfless care.  How quickly THAT motivation changed, too! I feel not an ounce of “obligation” when I text them pictures and send e-mails and order a fourth set of prints on Shutterfly, one for us, two for grandparents, and one for Nanny and Pops.  We spent a Monday afternoon through Friday morning with these people, less than four whole days, and I left bawling.  Just like the birth family, how quickly we came to love them for THEM! They feel like family.  Dede told me that after we left and people were asking how the visit and transition had gone, she kept calling us “the kids.” What an unexpected blessing.  We knew, getting into open adoption, that we would “eventually” come to love another family.  We had no idea how quickly we would find such love with TWO families, in Elizabeth’s case.

And OUR families! Of course we love them, and always have.  But hearing the joy and love and anticipation in their voices when we shared our news, then SEEING that love and complete adoration of their new granddaughter/niece/family member … how blessed we are! So many books have been written about how adoptive parents can help their families come to accept and love the adopted child, brought into the family in a non-biological manner.  I wondered if the day would ever come we would need these books to help us help our families to understand our feelings and Libby’s place in the family.  But when they met her, seeing them hold her and cuddle her and love on her relentlessly… I don’t think we have a whole lot to worry about.  Their unconditional acceptance of her place in our family brings so much joy to my heart, and makes me love and appreciate our families more than ever.

Likewise, our friends have been SO supportive, with presents and cards and phone calls and absolutely beautiful words of love and joy and praise.  I simply love sharing her sweetness and our joy with all of you, and the way you have welcomed her with open arms and shown so much care and concern for her is simply amazing.  Whenever we put up a new picture of Libby on Facebook, and especially after we spent the week in California and our pages blew up with love and support, Tim’s mom loves to read through all the names and comments and look for people she recognizes.  She says, “Wow, you guys have SO MANY friends who are excited about Libby.” And it’s so true; it feels like my whole little world waits on the edge of their seat for the next picture of Libby, and when I post it, it catches like wildfire.  And I LOVE you guys for it and appreciate it more than you know.

Here’s the biggest “love” surprise of all.  The others I might have logically concluded if I had thought far enough ahead.  But this one, I don’t think I ever could have seen coming.  Loving her has changed how I feel about myself and made me love myself a little more.  It definitely helps that she has filled this empty, aching little piece of my heart that has been waiting for her.  But there’s more to it – I feel stronger, tougher, more accomplished.  Which is kind of hilarious, being that I accomplish next to nothing in a day, compared to what I used to :) But now I feel so PROUD when I get the bathroom clean or the laundry folded or a nice meal cooked, because I know how HARD it was to get that done! I’m becoming more assertive, a quality I’ve wanted and needed to strengthen, but could never seem to do it for myself. But for her, it’s automatic.  I’m her advocate and I will fight fiercely for what she needs. And working out… seriously, did I just do a half-marathon at the end of May?  Pretty sure I couldn’t make it through a 5k at this moment without walking. But gone are the days of beating myself up because I didn’t work out “enough” this week.  Now are the days of pride and loving myself for mustering the strength and finding the time to work out even a few days a week.  It feels REALLY good to feel good about myself.  Not that every second of mommyhood is feeling good about yourself… sometimes I feel pretty crappy.  But there have been some very happy, proud moments, and it’s been wonderful.

Finally, I love my Savior SO much.  I don’t deserve this, ANY of this.  Sometimes I sit and stare and her and wonder why and how we are so blessed, and I hug her just a little tighter, reassuring myself that she’s real and she’s mine and she’s here to stay.  Why me? But then I glance over at the second shelf of the changing table, arm’s length from the rocking chair.  The stack of adoption books and baby books and devotion books that I thought I might sit and rock and read while Libby napped… HA! What a joke, THAT does not happen.  Then I catch a glimpse of my Bible propped up against the stack of books and the question “Why me?” is answered: simply because God is good.  Libby is not the only underserved, lovely blessing I’ve been graciously given in this life.  My Savior has blessed me so richly in so many ways, blessings I don’t even KNOW He’s given me.  And Libby, soft, sweet little Libby resting in my arms, is a physical, daily reminder of ALL the good that God gives me every single day.

So much love! I had known our hearts would grow and expand to accommodate the sweet little brown-eyed, chubby-cheeked munchkin we were about to bring home… I had known we would grow to love the people who had brought her into the world and cared for her in the early months of her life… but THIS much love? I am overwhelmed and so very, very blessed.

Mine

When I first laid eyes on her, she was sleeping.  I was thankful for that.  Pulling up to the house she lived in, walking in the front door and seeing blankets and hats and toys and books and diaper bags... it was all too much.  Meeting her right away would have done me in.

I cried a little as I met and hugged the people who have loved and cared for her tirelessly since she was two days old.  I was surprised I didn't dissolve into a sobbing puddle.  That would be typical Megan.  But my mind and body knew something major was happening and pulled through to hold me together.

She stretched and rubbed her eyes as she began to wake up.  Dede gently lifted her from her crib and carried her straight to me.  I stared and stared at the sweet little face whose pictures had been dancing through my dreams for weeks. She was real! She smelled so sweet and felt so soft as she cuddled her little head straight into my shoulder, still half asleep.

We spent four days with Dede and Gene, once "Mom and Dad", now "Nanny and Pops." The first two nights we slept in their home, they cooked us meals, poured us wine, and we watched as they effortlessly cared for their little angel.  Everything was so slick and smooth.  Routine. I was in awe. She slept in our guest room in a Pack 'N' Play, and she woke in the middle of the night, just at the time they said she would.  As I lifted her up in the 1 a.m. darkness, I couldn't see her smile, but I could feel it against my shoulder.  She knew it was time for a snack.  She knew she would be sung to and cuddled.  It's probably her favorite time of day.

After two nights we moved out of their house into a hotel with little Elizabeth.  We began eating meals on our own, having "outings" on our own, and visiting Nanny and Pops for long stretches of the day.  When we were alone with her, we began to call her Libby, just a little bit.  She was used to "Lizzy."  They knew we were changing the nickname, but I didn't want to use the new one in front of them.  It felt strange and even a little ungrateful.  I heard Dede use it a couple times when playing with her later in the week.  It meant the world to me and broke my heart, all at the same time.

Saying goodbye to them was simply awful.  We had the most wonderful last night - we ordered pizza and talked and laughed as if we'd known each other for years.  We already had "inside jokes." But we all knew what was going to happen, and we didn't want the night to end.  Gene wouldn't see her again.  Dede would come by our hotel in the morning before we left town.  My heart was broken.  I loved this baby girl so much already, but I knew that they loved her more.  And I was taking her away from them.  She felt like "theirs."

We packed up the car Friday morning with the gear and the sweet baby who was now "ours." We were free to come home to Minnesota, but we weren't ready.  Our flight home would be a monstrous undertaking between all the luggage, carry-ons, carseat and stroller, and little Elizabeth.  We needed a couple days to rest, recover, and get to know one another as an independent family.

We traveled from the coast to the desert and met up with dear friends from college.  She was not used to the heat.  She was not used to the sounds of other children.  She was not used to the smells and sounds of our strange little condo.  She was a little more subdued.  She slept more.  Smiles had to be coaxed out of her.  And Saturday morning, when we changed her from pajamas to a baptismal gown and then to a swimsuit within half an hour, she screamed bloody murder (several times) like I'd never heard before.

After swimming and a nice, long nap, I dressed her in clothes that I had bought her for the first time, rather than one of the seven thousand outfits Dede had given us :) It still felt a little "wrong." We took a little walk outside in the desert heat and settled in the cool grass under a shady tree for some pictures.  We cuddled and played and she perked up a bit. 

Sunday we flew home.  LAX with a baby was, surprisingly, rather pleasant and painless.  She was a champ on the plane.  After landing, we went to Starbucks with our friends who had kept our car in their garage.  Then we went to pick up the dogs and showed her off there, too.  She was quiet but very alert, just taking it all in.  We got home about 7:00 and the nursery, once neat, clean and "waiting," erupted with clothes and blankets and cute little girl things.  What a beautiful mess.

Home at last with my own furniture, changed into clean clothes and reunited with my doggies, it felt bizarre as I went through the unfamiliar motions of diapering and feeding and clothing a baby.  Although the sting was still real and powerful, it no longer felt like she "belonged" to Dede and Gene.  But it still didn't feel like she belonged to me.  Especially when every trace of her former "routine" vanished for our first six days at home and I became a walking, worrying zombie.  It felt surreal, temporary - almost as if I was baby-sitting someone else's child in my home while they were on vacation.

I started finding places to unpack all her treasures. The three big boxes of the rest of her goodies arrrived from California on Wednesday.  I washed dishes and folded laundry and baked cookies and worked on the computer while she napped.  I tried trick after trick in the middle of the night to get her back to sleep after that 1 a.m. wake-up call.  She refused.  I was (am) far more exhausted than I would admit. Grandma came on Wednesday, followed closely by Grandpa on Thursday.  Just in time for Little Girl to get miserable for all of Thursday and most of Friday.  She's got a couple of upper teeth taking their sweet time cutting through, and it's driving her crazy.

She would cry and cry and her nose would drip and her eyes would water and she drooled more than I think it snowed all last winter.  She didn't want to eat.  She wanted to sleep all. day. long.  And then not a wink at night.  She had JUST been starting to take comfort from me, and now there was nothing I could do to soothe her. I felt awful.  It seemed everything I did would make her cry.  Thank God my mom is around.  She's the one who keeps remembering how much Libby loves the bath, and how it calms her.  She's the one who remembers to take her temp.  She's the one who put her foot down and told me to get my butt back to bed NOW for a nap.  I was feeling exhausted, worried, and guilty.  I wasn't spending enough time in the Word of God. And so I felt awful. She was starting to feel like mine, but I felt like I didn't deserve her.

Last night God worked a little miracle in our house and she slept straight through until 5:30, except for a little half hour snack at 12:30.  I woke up refreshed, clear-headed and grateful.  I felt like myself.  I woke to happy little cooing and giggling sounds, not crying.  Well, not until I removed seven hours' worth of nose crusties.  Then she screamed her head off.  When the nose was clear, I wrapped her in my arms and held her close and nested into the rocker, the early morning sun sparkling on her tear-stained cheeks.

As I cuddled her and began to softly sing, she started to smile and my heart just melted.  She stopped crying just as I started to.  In that moment I felt it for the first time.  It was fierce and powerful and brought me to tears.  She's mine.  "It's you and me, kid," I told her.  "Well, and Daddy, too." Later in the morning we were having rice cereal for breakfast and I tried a new noise and had her laughing hysterically, like she never has for me.  That settled it.  It's true.  She's mine.

Adjusting to a new baby is tough for anyone.  Bringing that baby home through adoption adds special challenges.  And when she's seven months old and you've just uprooted her from the most loving, wonderful people and SHE KNOWS IT... it's pretty tough.  I'm not kidding myself into thinking those feelings of guilt and inadequacy are done.

But after this morning, I know what it's "supposed" to feel like.  It was a truly precious moment.  And when the bad days come again, I'll think of her sweet little face, laughing so hard she spit her cereal in my face.